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The Light Keepers
A Story of the United States Light-house Service
The Light Keepers
A Story of the United States Light-house Service
The Light Keepers
A Story of the United States Light-house Service
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The Light Keepers A Story of the United States Light-house Service

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Release dateNov 26, 2013
The Light Keepers
A Story of the United States Light-house Service
Author

James Otis

James Otis Kaler (March 19, 1848 — December 11, 1912) was an American journalist and author of children’s literature. He used the pen name James Otis.

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    The Light Keepers A Story of the United States Light-house Service - James Otis

    The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Light Keepers, by James Otis

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    Title: The Light Keepers

           A Story of the United States Light-house Service

    Author: James Otis

    Release Date: February 3, 2013 [EBook #41997]

    Language: English

    *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIGHT KEEPERS ***

    Produced by David Edwards, David K. Park and the Online

    Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This

    file was produced from images generously made available

    by The Internet Archive)

    Frontispiece. LOOK OUT FOR THIS 'ERE ROPE!

    THE LIGHT KEEPERS

    A STORY OF THE UNITED STATES

    LIGHT-HOUSE SERVICE

    BY

    JAMES OTIS

    AUTHOR OF THE LIFE SAVERS, ETC.

    NEW YORK

    E. P. DUTTON AND COMPANY

    31 West Twenty-third Street

    Copyright, 1905

    BY

    E. P. DUTTON & CO.


    Published, September, 1906

    The Knickerbocker Press, New York


    CONTENTS.

    ILLUSTRATIONS.


    THE LIGHT KEEPERS.


    CHAPTER I.

    AN INVOLUNTARY VISITOR.

    If that 'ere ain't a boat, Cap'n Eph, I'll agree to eat this buff-skin, an' wash it down with a pint of Uncle Sam's best oil, and Mr. Samuel Peters, first assistant of Carys' Ledge light, flattened his nose against the glass of the lantern as he peered out over the surging waters which surrounded the light-house on every hand.

    An odd-looking man was Mr. Peters (better known to his companions in the service as Sammy), because of the fact that a bullet from the works of Petersburg had ploughed a deep furrow across his left cheek, and carried away a goodly portion of one ear. Thus indelibly branded as a veteran of the Civil War, Mr. Peters had been glad to accept the position of first assistant keeper of Carys' Ledge light, under the command of his old comrade-in-arms, Captain Ephraim Downs.

    What good would it do you to eat the buff-skin, Sammy? Captain Eph asked in a mild tone, and without looking up from his task of polishing the lenses. It stands to reason that you'd have a fit of the dyspepsy after doin' it, an' then I'd be called upon to report that we'd lost a buff-skin, an' the best part of Number 12 from the medicine chest, for I'd feel it my duty to doctor you up to the best of my ability an' the printed instructions from the Board, even though you had been makin' a fool of yourself.

    But why don't you look out an' see what's drivin' in here? Mr. Peters cried with just a shade of irritation in his voice. What's the use of bein' so pig-headed?

    Now, Sammy, you know I ain't overly fond of bein' called pig-headed, an yet you throw that word at me in season an' out of season, Captain Downs said placidly as he polished the lenses carefully with the buff-skin.

    Then take a squint to the east'ard, an' see what this 'ere muck of a beastly fog is bringin' us, Mr. Peters insisted, this time in such an imploring tone that the old keeper could do no less than comply with the almost tearful request.

    A single glance over the heaving waters, which had a grayish hue in the early morning light, obscured as it was by the fog, and Captain Downs forgot for the moment the rules and regulations by which he governed the movements of himself and his companions.

    I do declare, Sammy, you're right! he cried. It does look like a boat, for a fact, an' the surprisin' part of it is that you hit so near the truth! It ain't often you can make out the difference betwixt a ship an' a seal.

    Mr. Peters was so engrossed with that which he saw as not to give any heed to the ironical remark, for, under almost any other circumstances, he would have resented it deeply.

    She's headin' this way, an' seems to be comin' right along, though I can't make out anything in the shape of oars, the first assistant said half to himself, and Captain Eph added as he went to the head of the narrow stairway which led to the dwelling-rooms below:

    You ain't so young as you use' ter be, Sammy, an' can't depend on your eyesight overly much. Then, raising his voice, he cried, Hello, Uncle Zenas! Bring up the glass will you?

    I reckon that'll stir him up a bit, Mr. Peters said with a chuckle as of satisfaction. Uncle Zenas claims there isn't anything in the rules an' regerlations that says he shall be interfered with while he's cookin'.

    He'll find I've got a few rules an' regerlations of my own, which can't be broken by any cook that ever beat an egg, Captain Eph said sharply, and then he stepped back by the side of Mr. Peters in order to get another glance at that object which had interfered with the early morning duties of the light-house force.

    A moment later it was possible for the two in the lantern to hear a dull rumbling sound, something like imitation thunder, from below, and again Mr. Peters chuckled until it really seemed as if he was choking.

    You've stirred Uncle Zenas up all right, Cap'n Eph, the first assistant said, an' I'm wonderin' whether you get them 'ere glasses without goin' after 'em yourself.

    He'll fetch 'em or I'll hang him out of this 'ere lantern till he comes somewhere nigh understandin' his duty aboard this light. I didn't fish off the Banks year in an' year out for the best part of my life, to be flouted by a whipper-snapper like Zenas Stubbs.

    The rumbling sound from below increased in volume until, after considerable difficulty, the head and shoulders of a very fat man were literally forced through the aperture in the floor of the lantern, and the upper portion of the whipper-snapper was revealed to view.

    Uncle Zenas had admitted, in moments of strictest confidence, that he weighed nigh to three hundred pounds and even Mr. Peters, who was prone to contradict any statement which might be made in his hearing, had no word against it. The cook was large, with a face so red it seemed as if the blood was about to burst through its veins, and, save in the present case, was blessed with a mildness of disposition in proportion to the size of his body.

    If I'm to fetch an' carry for this whole blessed crew, an' that at a time when the fish-cakes are like to be burned to a cinder, I'll send in a petition to the Board to have this 'ere stairway stretched till an ordinary man can get through without scrapin' the skin all off his shoulders, he said angrily, and Captain Eph replied, as he took the glasses from the huge hand which was extended toward him:

    Better ask for a derrick, Uncle Zenas, an' then we can run you up on the outside of the tower when we're needin' your delicate frame in the lantern.

    Uncle Zenas raised his hands above his head as if despairing of finding words of sufficient intensity to do justice to the occasion, and then, noting the fact that Captain Eph and Mr. Peters were gazing seaward intently, he apparently forgot the peril of the fish-cakes as, after considerable difficulty, he pulled his entire body through the narrow opening which gave entrance to the lantern.

    What seems to be the matter? he asked in a whisper, much as if believing Captain Eph might be disturbed in his efforts to bring the glasses to bear upon the tiny object which was being tossed wildly about by the waves so far away.

    For reply, Mr. Peters motioned him to look toward the east, and after one glance he asked:

    What is it? Looks like a log, an' if grown men in Government employ have taken to spendin' the time when they should be eatin', in huntin' up drift stuff, it's time the inspector was notified that a full, able-bodied crew is needed at Carys' Ledge light.

    I say it's a boat, Mr. Peters replied, an' if I'm right, it stands to reason that there may be somebody aboard of her. Now——

    "It is a boat! Captain Eph cried with no slight show of excitement, an' I'm allowin' that there's at least one man aboard."

    What can he be doin' out there to the east'ard? Mr. Peters cried as he took the glasses from the keeper's hand, and began adjusting them to his own eyes.

    It's some fisherman, I reckon, what lost himself in the fog, Uncle Zenas said, as if he no longer had any interest in the matter, and Mr. Peters cried excitedly:

    That's no fisherman's boat, and it don't look as if it came from a pleasure craft. There! Yes! I can make out somebody in the stern sheets; but I don't see any oars, and how in the name of goodness has he kept her headin' for this 'ere light? What do you allow it is, Cap'n Eph?

    Much the same as you've made out, Sammy, an' it puzzles me to say why she's abroad on a morning like this.

    Just at that instant the odor of burning fish came up through the door in the floor, and Uncle Zenas made all possible haste to descend, as the keeper cried irritably:

    I'd like to know if you haven't studied the rules and regerlations enough to find out that there mustn't be any smoke here in the lantern? Why don't you stay down where you belong, instead of makin' more work for Sammy an' me?

    I'd have been willin' to staid there, an' it was what I wanted to do, Uncle Zenas replied breathlessly, as he tried unsuccessfully to lower his huge body through the narrow aperture. If the crew of this 'ere light hadn't been so desperately lazy that they couldn't come down after a little pair of glasses, we wouldn't be losin' the best mess of fish-cakes that was ever put together on Carys' Ledge.

    Get down, can't you, an' not do so much talkin'? the angry keeper cried, pushing on the shoulders of the big cook until Uncle Zenas had literally scraped his way through, and then the door was closed so violently that several particles of dust arose, causing Captain Eph to mutter:

    It does seem as if the crew of this 'ere light had gone out of their heads this morning. What with smoke an' dust here in the lantern, I reckon we're smashin' the rules an' regerlations all to flinders. What do you make out, Sammy? What do you make out?

    It's one of them motor boats, Cap'n Eph, an' she's no fisherman, that much I'll go bail.

    "Well, get to work cleaning' up, an' let me find out what she is. It seems as if a full grown man with a pair of good glasses ought'er know all about her by this time."

    How do you expect me to wrastle with the rules an' regerlations, when for all we know that 'ere boat may be comin' in with a load of shipwrecked men? Mr. Peters cried petulantly, as he gave the glasses into the keeper's hand, and then stood gazing over the water as if believing it was possible to see more plainly with the naked eye.

    It don't stand to reason that 'ere craft has got shipwrecked men aboard, else we would see 'em, Sammy, an' I'm certain she's light, but for a man in the stern-sheets. Here comes the fog agin, and whoever's steerin' stands a mighty slim chance of strikin' Carys' Ledge, if it so be he wants to make this 'ere bit of rock. I do hate to get so mixed up before breakfast! Why couldn't the idjut have waited until long towards noon, when we hadn't much of anything to do, before he hove in sight?

    He'll heave out of sight mighty soon, for this 'ere smother is comin' back faster than it went, Mr. Peters said half to himself, an' I reckon we know now all we ever shall about him.

    It must be he's makin' for the ledge, an' it stands to reason we ought'er lend him a hand. There, that's the last we'll see of the craft unless some mighty fine steerin' is done, an' since it's no use lookin' out in the fog, Sammy, you'd better get to work on the lamp, while I go down in case he's got brains enough to hold his course. Remember, that 'cordin' to the rules an' regerlations, the work of gettin' things ship-shape must be begun immediately the light is put out, and we've loafed too long already.

    I reckon it wouldn't hurt very much if we broke the regerlations a little bit, when perhaps there are lives to be saved, Mr. Peters muttered as the keeper, raising the trap-door carefully, descended the narrow, winding staircase, but the first assistant made no attempt to follow his superior officer, because of knowing full well, from past experience, that any such disobedience of orders would be followed by a reprimand not pleasant to receive.

    Descending the first flight, the keeper came to the watch room, where was a table, a chair, a stove, and a small lamp for the comfort and convenience of those who were on duty during the night to make certain the lamp in the lantern (meaning the floor above), burned steadily; and here also was a square, upright piece of mechanism known as the driving clock, which operated the flashing light.

    Down another flight, and the keeper was in a third circular room, where were two beds. Another flight brought him to his own apartment, and below that the kitchen, over which Uncle Zenas presided as cook and second assistant light keeper, where everything was wondrously neat and clean, and where every inch of space was economized for the better keeping of the food, cooking utensils, and such articles as are ordinarily found in similar apartments on shore.

    Are the fish-cakes spiled? Captain Eph asked as he opened the door leading outside the tower to a ladder of iron, which was fastened directly to the masonry of the building.

    Gone to a cinder, the cook replied in a tone of sorrow, an' I allow they was the best I ever put together. What about the boat?

    That's what I can't tell, Uncle Zenas. This 'ere fog has shut in worse than ever, an' the chances are we'll never see her agin.

    How did she happen to be out there? Some fisherman, eh?

    No; me an' Sammy are both agreed that it's a motor boat, an' she looked to me like such a craft as would be carried by some big sailing vessel.

    But what is she doin' out there?

    Now, look here, Uncle Zenas, I don't know anything more about her than you do. How can you expect I'm goin' to answer such a fool question as that? All I can say is that, 'cordin' to the last sight I had of her, it looked as if she was headin' for this 'ere ledge, an' all the rest is a puzzle.

    Where are you goin' now? the cook asked as he set about preparing more fish-cakes.

    Down to the rocks. It's just possible I may be able to give the course to whosoever is coming, an' Heaven knows he'll need it.

    Then, as if to put an end to the conversation, Captain Eph closed the door emphatically behind him, and descended the long, slender ladder which led to the ledge below.

    Not an inviting looking place in which to spend the greater portion of one's life was Carys' Ledge; nothing but a mass of black, jagged rocks rising out of the ocean a dozen miles or more from the mainland, and in extent at low water, half a mile long, and considerably less than that distance in width.

    Save for two rows of timbers securely bolted to the rocks, and extending from the base of the tower to the water's edge to form ways, on which a boat could be drawn up or launched, and a small hut not unlike the dwelling of an Esquimau, made of cement, and large enough to shelter a dory, there was nothing to be seen on the ledge of jagged rocks, over which one could make his way only with considerable difficulty.

    Captain Eph descended to the water's edge by following the timbers of the boat-ways, taking due care as to where he stepped, for the footing was far from secure anywhere save on the extreme top of the ledge, and, making a trumpet with his hands, he shouted again and again, pausing now and then in a listening attitude.

    It don't stand to reason he could hold his course long enough to hit this 'ere ledge; but I reckon it's my duty as a Christian man an' a light keeper to do what I can toward lendin' a hand. If he don't come ashore here, the chances are mightily agin his strikin' land while the breath is left in his body, for this 'ere smother is enough to mix up anybody except an old shellback like me. Hello-o-o-o! Hello-o-o-o!

    Captain Eph actually started in surprise at hearing his hail answered, and it seemed to him as if it was a child's voice which had come from out the fog.

    I must be losin' my mind, to even imagine sich a thing! he exclaimed petulantly, dashing the moisture from his eyes as if by so doing it might be possible to penetrate the dense veil of vapor which shut out from view even the tower of the light. It's a crazy trick for a grown man to be whifflin' 'round here in this smother, without my thinkin' I heard a boy. Hello-o-o-o!

    Hello! came out from the fog, and the old keeper really looked around him in fear; but an instant later he had gathered his senses sufficiently to cry:

    Uncle Zenas! Uncle Zenas!

    The outer door of the tower must have been opened at the first word, for the light keeper heard his cook and second assistant ask petulantly:

    Now what's creepin' over you, Ephraim Downs? Do you allow that we can afford to lose another mess of fish-balls this mornin', or have you knocked off eatin' altogether?

    Come down here, Uncle Zenas, an' bring the fish-balls with you, if you can't come without 'em. I've got the boat in hail, an' it's a child who answers me. We'll be needin' all hands, if he is to be brought ashore alive. Sing out for Sammy!

    Then Captain Eph cried out once more for the guidance of the stranger, and the reply was sufficient to convince him, if he had not already decided the matter in his mind, that the helmsman of the boat was very young.

    Are you on an island?

    Wa'al, I wouldn't like to call it jest that, Captain Eph shouted, unless you're willin' to say a pile of rocks makes an island. This 'ere is Carys' Ledge light. Now do you know where you are?

    No better than I did before. Am I headin' right?

    It sounds so; but this 'ere channel is mighty narrow, an' unless you come in jest so, the chances are that your boat will be knocked to pieces. Is she a motor craft?

    Yes, sir.

    Then slow down till you can see the openin' in the rocks, an' once you're headin' right, slap the power to her. Hello, you Sammy!

    Ay, ay! came from somewhere near the tower.

    Bring down that coil of rope, an' I'm thinkin' this 'ere lad'll need it before he makes a landin'!

    At that moment the bow of the boat came into view amid the fog, and Captain Eph shouted:

    Port! Port a bit, an' keep her in the channel! Hurry your stumps, Sammy, for we're like to have a nasty mess here.

    Mr. Peters did not arrive on the scene a second too soon, for at the very instant he gained the keeper's side the little craft was thrown by a heavy wave against the jagged rocks, and the splintering of wood told that much damage had been done.

    Look out for this 'ere rope, an' have your wits about you! Captain Eph cried as, hurriedly taking the coil from Sammy's hands, he flung with wonderful accuracy of aim the flakes across the shattered boat which was being carried by the swell against the rocks the other side of the narrow channel.

    Now it was possible for the keeper and his assistant to see that the sole occupant of the disabled craft was a small boy, apparently not more than ten or twelve years of age, whose face told eloquently of the mental and physical suffering he had endured.

    The lad sprang forward to seize the rope; but at that instant the boat was flung against the rocks, throwing him headlong, and but for the first assistant keeper he must have been carried out of the little cove by the receding waves.

    Mr. Peters, understanding that if the boy's life was to be saved prompt action was necessary, leaped into the boiling waters as he flung one arm over the rope Captain Eph was holding.

    The impetus of his leap was sufficient to send him through the water faster than the partially destroyed boat was being carried, and, grasping the stem with one hand and the rope with the other, he shouted:

    Haul in, Cap'n, the best you know how, for I can't hold on here overly long!

    By this time Uncle Zenas had arrived at the scene, and, thanks to his assistance, the little craft with her crew of one was pulled so far in toward the rocks that the keeper and the cook had no difficulty in running her bow on the ways, after which, as Mr. Peters scrambled out of the water looking like a very large, half-drowned cat, the boy was taken from the boat by Captain Eph.

    There, there, don't try to talk, the keeper said in a fatherly tone. Anybody with half an eye can see that you're clean done up, an' we'll have plenty of time for your story, seein's we ain't likely to be bothered with visitors till the inspector overhauls us.

    It seemed as if all the lad's strength deserted him when there was no longer any question as to his safety, for before Captain Eph ceased, the muscles of the little body suddenly relaxed as if the wings of the death angel had touched them.

    I vow an' declare if the poor little tot hasn't gone an' fainted away like a woman, the old keeper said as he hurried toward the tower, leaving to Uncle Zenas and Mr. Peters the task of pulling the shattered boat up beyond reach of the tide. I reckon he'd stuck it out as long as he had strength, an' then went all to pieces.

    When the two assistants entered the kitchen Captain Eph, having undressed the lad, was rubbing him vigorously with warm towels, and Mr. Peters cried in astonishment:

    Hello! What's goin' on now? Ain't afraid he's been drownded, are you, Cap'n?

    "What

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